


Did the Cold Hurt

by Lola1b



Series: In Your Arms [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Hurt, It's dumb and a little sad what do you expect with a 'Titanic' fic, M/M, Titanic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 07:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7213648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lola1b/pseuds/Lola1b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve asked Sam for a movie recommendation. He suggested Titanic. He meant it as a joke. He was sure Steve knew what the movie was about already. It happened in the damned 1910s after all.</p><p>Part of series but also stand-alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did the Cold Hurt

 

 

“So,” Steve said, looking at the Netflix screen. “Titanic, huh?”

Sam snorted out a laugh and shook his head. “Hey, it is a classic.” He didn't think Steve would take it seriously. He meant it as a joke. He was sure Steve knew what the movie was about already. The actual event happened in the damned 1910s, after all. It's not like “Titanic” was foreign to him.

Steve shrugged and pressed the button on the little remote, scrolling through all the other movies on Tony's recommendation list.

“You know, when I think therapy for a super-soldier assassin, I don't think movie night.”

“The doctor says it's a good distraction,” Steve argued as he looked through the list. “We gotta keep him calm, but also not too bored. He'll start over-thinking and who knows what he'll end up on.”

“Hopefully something useful. Like maybe more memories,” Sam said with a shrug. He stood behind the sofa, watching Steve disinterestedly flip through all the menus on Netflix. He looked through the comedy section, but Steve made a face at all the silly titles and moved past them without stopping. He flipped to the “classics” section, and paused slightly on _Casablanca_ before continuing on.

“We don't want to over-do it. Too much at once can be too big a shock. At the very least, it'll rattle him. We want to take it slow.”

Sam smirked. He felt a little guilty for making silly jokes, even if they were just in his own head. But all the Avengers seemed to think the same thing. They watched intently whenever Steve and Barnes interacted, and exchanged curious glances whenever something sentimental passed between them. And man, were there many of those moments.

“Alright. Well, have fun. I'll let him know you're in here on my way out.”

Steve looked over the sofa. “Where are you going?”

“Some of us are still working.”

“Hey, taking care of a friend in need is a full-time job,” Steve said with a strained smile. He tried to be with Bucky as much as possible. Especially since his memory had been dodgy lately.

Sam gave him a quick wave and headed out. Steve continued to flip through the movies, then let out an exasperated sigh. He saw most of these movies already. Some twice. And as fun as Star Wars was to watch, and as much as he was sure it'd be a great escape for Bucky, he wasn't keen on watching it for the third time right now.

He heard footsteps and flipped back to the classics page. _Titanic_. Well, it's a few decades before their time. Almost a full decade before they were _born_. But it wasn't about war or the Great Depression, like most movies about the 30s and 40s were. And somehow, watching anything about the 50s felt weird. The war was won, and people were celebrating in those movies; all while Steve was frozen in ice, and Bucky was...

He was right behind him, his hand resting on the back of the sofa. As part of the compromise, he had to give up his arm. They made him a new one in Wakanda. It was almost like the old one, except it didn't have the red star. But when they came to the compound, Tony was strict about the “no weapons” rule, and Bucky's arm certainly counted as one.

“Hey, Buck,” he said, turning back for a second to smile at him. Bucky smiled back weakly and slowly came around the sofa to sit next to him. Steve clicked on the movie.

“How was it?”

Bucky shrugged.

“Not good?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

Steve nodded gently as the screen loaded. “I'm sorry. I know it's hard talking about it, but it's part of this,” he said, motioning to the room around them. He meant the deal, of course, the one where Bucky could stay with the Avengers. There were many rules, beyond the arm and the psych-evaluations Bucky had to go through every few days. But it was better than him being locked up in some prison. And better than him being out there alone, in danger of being found by Hydra. “But you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to.”

“I know,” Bucky replied, his eyes glued to the TV. The movie was slowly starting. The beginning titles came on. There was the ocean. Steve shivered for a moment. Maybe this movie wasn't the best idea. It's not that he was traumatized by the ocean, but he _did_ freeze himself by landing in one. Or near one. He wasn't sure where he actually crashed his ship anymore.

But Bucky seemed fascinated. He stared at the TV. He was sitting all stiff and Steve gently touched his shoulder to get his attention. Bucky jerked his head to the side to look at him.

“Come on, let's watch a movie and relax. It was a long day.” Long for Steve, too. The man sitting across from Bucky wasn't gentle in his questions. Steve couldn't listen to Bucky trying to detail his torture. He spent most of the time Bucky was in there searching for a movie.

Bucky moved closer to Steve and settled into the couch. Steve smiled and raised the volume. He hadn't seen this movie before, though he did once hear about the Titanic when he was a child. Seeing it recreated by modern technology was breath-taking. Of course, nowadays the Titanic wasn't that impressive. But he remembered people talking about it, and how beautiful it was.

They watched in silence for a while. Then Jack took out his sketchbook and began to draw. Bucky turned his head slightly towards Steve.

“Didn't you use to draw?” He looked at him fully when Steve didn't reply. He was looking back at Bucky and a slow smile appeared on his face.

“Yeah, a long time ago. There wasn't much time during the war.”

Bucky's eyes wandered around and his mouth hung open. Then he closed it and smiled. “You still carried a small sketchbook with you. In your front pocket. There was a sketch... a man with a mustache. He was snoring loudly and you drew him as a hibernating bear.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head. His eyes went back to the screen. “That would be Dum Dum.”

“You drew me.”

Steve looked back to Bucky.

“I was a great model,” he said with a smile.

“Actually, you couldn't hold a pose long enough for me to ever finish a drawing. Besides, I wasn't that good. It was just a hobby.” He waved his hand dismissively and looked back at the screen. He heard Bucky chuckle and looked at him again.

“I thought they were just grand. Besides, with you being Captain America, I bet those sketches were worth quite a pretty penny after you 'died.'”

“Too bad whoever sold off our stuff after we 'died' didn't keep them safe.”

Bucky's brows furrowed in despair. “No. They didn't keep a single one?”

“I've never seen them again.”

“But there was a great one of me.”

Steve shook his head. It was like old times for a moment. “Such a vain jerk.”

“Oh, shut it. You loved to draw me.”

Steve's mouth opened and his eyes snapped to Bucky. He was sitting back in the couch, staring at the screen again, completely absorbed by it. Steve swallowed and tried to focus on the movie, and on getting his reddening cheeks to go back to their original color.

The love story continued. He didn't expect it would be one. He thought it might be a disaster movie. Which, granted, was also a bad choice for a 'therapy movie.' But it was better than something obviously littered with romantic under-tones like the myriad of other 'classical' movies he was flipping through before. It was a little melodramatic, too, but Bucky was consumed by it. He gasped softly when Jack and Rose kissed, and leaned forward when the drawing scene came on screen.

By this point, Steve's brain was too full of thoughts to fully pay attention. The movie was mostly for Bucky's benefit, after all. Instead, he was doodling on a piece notepad paper with a pen. He was drawing eyes. Hard eyes. Wide, surprised eyes. Soft, distraught eyes... Eyes that stood out against white paper skin, above a mask that covered the rest of the face, from behind bold bangs that hung on either side. He took a deep breath and flipped the page.

Bucky elbowed him lightly and Steve looked up at the screen. Rose was naked. He blushed and looked back down at the notepad.

“Look. He's good. Think you could do something like that?”

Steve looked up to catch a glimpse of Jack's drawing before the screen changed. “Pose naked?”

“No, idiot,” Bucky said with a laugh. “Draw that well.”

“He didn't actually draw that. It's a movie.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. After a moment of Steve doodling random shapes, Bucky shifted and leaned on the arm of the sofa, his own arm under his head. Steve looked up at the shifting and gave Bucky a quizzical look.

Bucky's best sultry expression greeted him, his partially closed eyes staring straight into him. His lips quirked up in amusement. In a voice higher pitched than his typical speaking voice, he quoted Rose. “Draw me like one of your French girls.”

Steve stared at him for a long moment. Chuckles shook Bucky's chest and he sat up. Steve grinned in amusement, then closed his eyes and put his face in his hands.

“You're such a...”

“Jerk?”

“Idiot.”

Bucky sat back against the couch.

The ice-berg came. Bucky's eyes widened. Then became blank. Steve stopped watching the movie and turned to look at Bucky. Rose jumped out of the life-boat. She raced through the ice-cold water looking for Jack. Bucky was sitting at the edge of the couch, his face so frighteningly blank that Steve gently grabbed his shoulder and leaned over to speak to him.

“Buck? I can change it.”

“No,” Bucky croaked out, his blank expression cracking. He glanced at Steve, his face full of anguish, before he turned back to the movie. “I want to see how it ends.”

“I think I know how... Bucky, it might not be the best –“ He picked up the remote. Bucky reached over and grabbed it out of his hand.

“I want to see. She's going back for him.”

Steve sat back and watched Bucky watch the movie. Flashes of the mountain came to his mind. Snow billowed from under the train, and Steve's face was so cold as he stared down into the abyss. He couldn't see where he landed. Couldn't go back for him.

“Did it hurt.”

It took Steve a moment to realize Bucky was talking to him. Jack and Rose were at the top of the Titanic, holding on desperately as the ship rose straight into the air. There were no lifeboats for them. There was never one for Jack. But Rose gave hers up, too, when she went back for him.

Steve looked at Bucky, who slowly peeled his eyes away from the screen to meet Steve's gaze.

“When you crashed the plane. Did the cold hurt.”

Steve watched him for a long moment. The Titanic was sinking. They were in the water. He saw Bucky gulp as they heard the characters struggle in the ice-cold ocean.

“I didn't feel it. I felt the plane hit the water. Then... nothing.”

Bucky slowly turned back to the screen. Rose was on the plank. She could still be saved. But Jack...

Bucky leaned forward more. Jack was hanging onto Rose, his body shivering in the freezing water. Bucky shivered. Steve put a comforting hand on Bucky's back.

He couldn't hear what Jack or Rose were saying anymore. He just heard their cold breaths shiver with each syllable. Their lips were so purple, their hair caked with frost. Jack's grip slackened.

Bucky swallowed thickly. Steve looked up and saw the wetness in his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly. “This was a bad idea. Please, just turn it off.”

Bucky shook his head. They watched Rose get rescued. They saw her as an old lady, finishing her tale.

“I wanted to see,” Bucky said quietly. The music swelled in a bittersweet melody. The ending credits came on screen.

Steve waited. Bucky turned to him. His grip on the edge of the couch was iron-strong. Steve wanted to take his hand, but he couldn't move. Bucky was looking at him, his eyes shimmering.

“I wanted to see her get saved. And she was.”

“Not all of her,” Steve said quietly. “She left a part of herself behind.”

“But she got saved,” Bucky argued gently, his lips quirking up in a sad smile. “That's all I wanted. At least for one of them to make it out.”

Steve's eyes flickered down again to Bucky's strong grip on the couch. His knuckles were white.

“I know it hurt,” Steve began softly. “The cold. I don't want you to do that to yourself again.”

Bucky looked away. He still had the remote by his side. He picked it up and turned the TV off. They were thrown into deep shadows. Steve looked around. The last dying light of the day could be seen through the heavily reinforced glass. It left a few warm streaks across the ocean. He couldn't imagine the water being cold. It was July. The water was warm.

“They could have both gotten on that plank,” Steve said, retracting his hand from Bucky's back. “It was a stupid movie.”

Bucky stared at Steve with a slight frown, almost as if he was offended. “You don't know that. If Jack had to die to make sure Rose survived, or risk them both drowning, well, I think he made the right call.”

Now Steve was offended. “Maybe Rose isn't as weak as Jack thinks. Maybe the two of them could have rowed towards one of those life-boats together.”

“If it didn't sink first.”

Steve shook his head. There was a knock behind them. Sam was leaning on the door frame, an amused look on his face.

“How was movie night?”

Steve looked back at him and gave him an incredulous look. “Depressing. Why'd you tell me to watch _Titanic?_ ”

Sam's smile fell and his eyes widened. “Dude, I was _joking_. You know the guy freezes to death at the end.”

Steve closed his eyes. “Yea, we know.” He looked at Bucky as if asking for support. Bucky stared back at Sam.

“Yeah, jerk. So insensitive. You know we were both frozen.”

“Shit, guys, I was _joking_. I didn't mean,” Sam said, putting his hands up.

Bucky smiled. Steve smiled. Sam groaned.

“You guys are jerks.”

“It's just a movie,” Bucky said with a shrug and a smile. Steve looked back at him, a fond smile spreading on his face. Bucky would be alright.

“Geez. Sorry if I traumatized you guys all over again,” Sam said as he walked away. His footsteps faded away down the hall.

“You'll draw me again, though. Right?”

Steve's brows shot up in surprise.

“What?”

“Not necessarily like a French girl,” Bucky said, laughter rumbling out of him again. “But you know, it's kinda relaxing. Watching you move a pencil over a page, and then an hour or two later, there's my face. I was a shitty model then. But I might be better now.”

Steve shook his head with an amused smile. “I'll get a pencil then. Can't do a good sketch with a pen,” he said picking up the pen before putting it down again.

He got up and was halfway through the room when he heard Bucky chuckle.

“What's so funny?”

“If you _want_ , I can wear nothing but my metal arm.” He looked up at Steve with a mischievous grin. Steve rolled his eyes. Then they landed on Bucky and a smile quickly followed.

“It's good to have you back, Buck.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Constructive criticism and comments are welcome!


End file.
